


Milk and Honey

by arysa13



Series: 2019 Kink Meme Fills [8]
Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Breastfeeding, F/M, Humor, Lactation Kink, Season 1, Sharing a Bed, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-13
Updated: 2019-07-13
Packaged: 2020-06-27 09:02:08
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,934
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19787638
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/arysa13/pseuds/arysa13
Summary: The radiation on earth is weird, somehow making all the girls begin to lactate. Luckily for Clarke, Bellamy knows all about lactation after helping his mom with Octavia, so he offers to help her out.





	Milk and Honey

**Author's Note:**

> extended version

It’s probably an overreaction when Clarke goes off at Jasper in front of the whole camp. It’s just that her breasts are heavy and aching lately and it’s making her grumpier than usual, and when Harper dobs Jasper in for trying to get her to do his jobs for him in exchange for some of his rations, Clarke has had enough.

“There is a _reason_ we all have jobs, Jasper! And a _reason_ we all have rations! And it is not so you can trade one for the other! If I hear about you doing this again—is something funny?” she snaps, Jasper’s snicker interrupting her tirade.

“No, ma’am,” Jasper says, his smile quickly dropping, and his eyes flicking up from her tits back to her face. The delinquents standing around watching the show are giggling amongst themselves too. She had thought they were laughing at Jasper’s misfortune, but now it becomes obvious that they’re laughing at _her_.

“ _What_ is so funny?” she huffs, exasperated.

“You, uh—” Jasper glances at her tits again. “You appear to be leaking.”

She looks down. Two wet patches have formed on her shirt, right where her nipples are. What the fuck? She quickly crosses her arms across her chest, feeling her face heat up.

“Okay, show’s over,” she says. “Get back to work.”

She hurries towards her tent, with the intent of changing her shirt, or at least putting something over it so the wet patches aren’t visible. Then she needs to figure out _why_ exactly she’s apparently _lactating_ for no good reason.

She makes it to her tent and whips her shirt over her head, tossing it aside. She’ll clean it later and hang it out to dry. Thankfully, she does have a spare shirt. She does not, however, have a spare bra. She looks down at the massive wet patches, and sighs pathetically. It’s not ideal, but she’ll just have to go without a bra until she can dry this one out.

She’s about to take it off, when someone pushes her tent flap open and comes barging inside.

“Bellamy!” she shrieks, throwing her arms across her chest to cover herself. “Learn to knock.”

“Sorry, princess,” he snorts. “It’s kind of important. Some of the girls are—” he stops. His eyes flick towards her breasts, and she flushes. Is he checking her out, or does he know? He grabs her arm and she lets him pull it away from her chest, glaring at him the whole time.

“Happy?” she huffs.

“Lactating,” he finishes. “Last I checked you hadn’t given birth lately?”

“Obviously not.”

She drops her arms. He’s seen now, no point in trying to cover them up. At least he’s not laughing. Bellamy licks his lips, still staring at her tits. She squirms under his heated gaze.

“Does it hurt?”

“Little bit,” Clarke says. “They’ve been aching since yesterday. I thought I was, you know – getting my period or whatever.”

“They’re bigger than usual too,” he murmurs. Oh god, he noticed that? How much attention does he pay to her tits? His eyes meet hers. “It feels a little better though now, right? Now that some of the, uh, milk, has been—removed?”

Clarke nods sharply. It does feel a like a bit of pressure has been released. “Not enough though.”

“I mean, what you really need is to breastfeed. Trust me, I know about this stuff from helping Mom with Octavia.”

“Well, we don’t exactly have any spare babies lying around camp,” Clarke huffs, rolling her eyes.

“I could do it.” He says it so quickly, so easily, Clarke is sure she must have misheard.

“What?”

“I mean—it’s the easiest way. You need someone to suck the milk out. And I’m betting you don’t want anyone else out there to do it.”

“I—” Clarke swallows. He wants to suck on her nipples. As a favour, to help her feel better. And she kind of wants him to, but she doesn’t think it’s a great sign that the thought of him sucking milk from her breasts makes her pussy throb. But what other choice does she have? “Okay,” she agrees.

“Okay?”

Clarke nods. “I said okay.”

“Okay,” Bellamy says. “Let’s get you out of this thing, okay?” Clarke nods, and Bellamy puts his hands under the sides of her bra. Clarke lifts her arms above her head so he can pull it off her, and then she’s standing there, topless, in front of Bellamy Blake. She resists the urge to cover herself. She reminds herself that he’s seen plenty of topless girls, and this whole thing probably means nothing to him.

“Let’s sit down,” Bellamy says. He leads her over to her bed, and she sits down on the edge, waiting for him to join her. She just wants to get this over with already so he can leave her alone and she can finger herself to the thought of his mouth on her tits.

He sinks to his knees between her legs. He reaches out and brushes his thumb across her nipple. It comes away wet. He cups her tits in his hands, and as he squeezes gently, a little milk dribbles out. Clarke flushes. She feels a surge of wetness between her legs, and now it’s not just her breasts that are aching but her pussy too.

“God, princess, they’re so full,” he groans. “Must be so painful to carry around all that milk, huh? Need me to get rid of the pressure for you, don’t you?”

“Please, Bellamy,” Clarke whines. Why is he teasing her? She just needs relief.

He leans forward, and finally closes his mouth over her pointed nipple. He sucks, and Clarke whimpers. She tries not to think about it too hard, about what he’s doing. He’s fucking breastfeeding from her. Drinking her milk from her oversized breasts. It’s weird, she knows it’s weird, but it’s turning her on. She wants his hand between her legs while he suckles at her breast.

She can already start to feel relief as Bellamy drinks from her. The breast he’s sucking at feels considerably less heavy, and it doesn’t feel painful at all now. Bellamy seems to sense this, or maybe he just ran out of milk, because he switches to the other breast.

Clarke can’t stop herself from moaning this time. Bellamy pauses.

“That feel good, princess?” he says looking up at her. Clarke nods shyly.

“How—how does it taste?”

“Tastes so good princess. Believe me. You want to try?” Clarke shakes her head. This is already weird enough. “Okay, suit yourself,” he smirks. He runs his tongue across her nipple before sucking it back into his mouth.

Clarke grips the edge of her bed tightly, while Bellamy sucks on her nipple, draining milk from her. She feels better now. Her tits feel lighter, and they don’t hurt anymore. But she doesn’t want him to stop. She’s pretty sure if he kept going, she could come just from have him suck on her nipples.

But he does stop. He pulls away, and stands up, job done.

“You feel better?”

“Yes. Thanks,” Clarke says, as if any part of this was totally normal.

“Come find me when they get too full again,” he says. Clarke nods, though the embarrassment of just thought of having to ask him to do it again is too much. “Meanwhile we should try to find out what’s causing this and see if there’s a way to stop it.”

“You said it was happening to other girls?”

“Yeah,” Bellamy nods. “Fox was crying earlier, she thought she was dying.”

Clarke licks her lips. “You’re—you’re not going to do that for all of them, are you?” she asks, flushing. Of course, it’s stupid to ask. It’s not like she’s _special_. Of course if they want him to he’d do it for them too. But she wants it to be just _their_ thing.

“No, princess, that was just for you,” he grins. The relief she feels at this admission is unwarranted. “We better find another way to help the other girls.”

As soon as he’s gone, Clarke shoves her hand down the front of her pants. She doesn’t think she’s ever been so wet. She rubs her clit frantically, trying to get herself off as quickly as possible before someone else comes looking for her. Lately it’s hard to find even a few minutes of respite.

It doesn’t take her long, Bellamy already having gotten her halfway there with his mouth on her breasts. She bites her lip as she comes, to stop herself from moaning or crying out. She lies there for a minute, breathing heavy, before she forces herself to get up. She grabs her spare shirt and pulls it over her head, before hanging her other shirt and her bra up to dry.

She hates not wearing a bra, hates the way her tits bounce and sway with every movement, without something to hold them in place. Hates the way her nipples get hard with the slightest provocation. It should feel freeing to not wear a bra, but Clarke just feels self-conscious. Her only other choice is to wear her wet, milk stained bra though, and frankly that’s worse.

Bellamy is waiting for her when she walks out of her tent, and she tries unsuccessfully to fight off her blush. Was he standing here waiting for her this whole time, while she fingered herself to the thought of him?

He says nothing about it, already moving as soon as she’s next to him. Although she doesn’t miss the quick glance at her tits before he starts walking. She does her best to match his strides as they cross the camp, hoping her tits aren’t jiggling as much as it feels like they are.

“We should gather everyone up, let them know what’s going on,” Bellamy says. “Don’t want any more freak outs.”

“You can do it,” Clarke says. “I may have had a slight meltdown at Jasper earlier, I doubt anyone wants to hear from me.”

Bellamy grins. “Sad I missed it.” Another glance at her tits. She doesn’t know if he’s doing it on purpose, or if his mind is just on boobs at the moment because of the whole spontaneously lactating thing.

They gather everyone around, and Clarke takes her place beside Bellamy as he addresses the camp.

“Alright, bit of a different speech to usual,” he says. “It seems like there’s something about Earth that’s causing some of the girls to start randomly lactating.”

A titter from the crowd. Bellamy glares in the direction and whoever it was goes silent. “It’s obviously not pleasant, so I’d advise everyone to keep their mouths shut about it. If you get hit by an angry woman don’t come crying to me.”

“Okay, but how do we stop it from happening?” Fox says.

“We’re going to try and figure that out, but in the meantime, you’ll be more comfortable if you can uh, extract some of the milk. I know it’s weird, but if you have someone you trust, the best way is to get someone to suck it out.”

Fox’s face goes a brilliant shade of red at that. Clarke can understand the sentiment.

“I’m not doing that,” Fox mutters.

“I’ll do it for you, Fox,” Jasper winks. Fox wrinkles her nose at him.

“Okay, that’s enough,” Bellamy sighs. “Don’t do anything you’re not comfortable with. We’ll try and sort this out as quickly as possible.”

As the crowd disperses, Finn comes skipping over to Clarke. Clarke does her best not to let her displeasure at his presence show. Sometimes she can’t believe she had sex with that guy. Not only had sex with him, but lost her virginity to him. He makes her skin crawl now.

“Clarke,” Finn says, his voice dropping low, so only she and Bellamy can hear. “Do you need someone to—” he nods at her chest, unwilling to say the words. He must have heard about what happened earlier, from Jasper no doubt.

“Clarke’s taken care of,” Bellamy says gruffly, and the look that passes between him and Finn has her blushing again. Bellamy stares Finn down, while Finn’s look of uncertainty turns to one of understanding. His lip curls, and Bellamy folds his arms intimidatingly, not backing down. Finn looks to Clarke in disbelief. Clarke just shrugs. “Come on, Clarke,” Bellamy says. “We’ve got to figure out what we can do to stop it.”

Clarke follows Bellamy, not even bothering to look back at Finn.

-

Her breasts are full and aching again by the time she lies down to try to go sleep that night. She and Bellamy hadn’t found a remedy for the problem, but despite Bellamy’s obvious distaste for the solution offered to him, they ended up agreeing to send Octavia to ask Lincoln if there’s an explanation and a way to stop it.

Clarke puts a hand under her shirt, and gives her right breast a small squeeze. She winces, and a tiny drop of milk trickles from her nipple. She’s so tender, and they feel so heavy. She knows she won’t be able to sleep like this, but she’s putting off having to ask Bellamy for help as long as she can. At least until she can be sure no one will see her sneaking into his tent in the middle of the night, even though everyone has probably figured out by now what Bellamy did for her this afternoon, if Finn didn’t tell them first.

Eventually she gets up, still dressed and still braless, and ducks out of her tent. She tries rehearsing what she’s going to say to him as she crosses the camp, but there’s no way she can think to phrase it that doesn’t sound completely ridiculous.

He’s alone, thank god, and awake. He’s got a lantern on, and it looks like he’s going over battle plans yet again. He looks up when she walks in, and all his attention is immediately on her. 

“Hey,” he says, his voice soft. “Everything okay?”

Clarke nods. “Yeah, I just need you to, uh—” she gestures towards her chest.

“Milk you?”

“Gross, don’t say it like that,” Clarke huffs.

Bellamy grins. “Sorry. Just trying to diffuse the tension.” Oh, so he can feel that tension too. She’s not sure if that’s a relief or a worry. “Come on,” he says, leading her to his bed. She sits down, and tries to ignore his gaze on her as she pulls her top over her head. Bellamy sits down beside her.

“Lie down,” he whispers. Clarke lies back slowly, and Bellamy positions himself on top of her. He looks into her eyes for way too long before he drops his head, and runs his tongue over her nipple. He puts his mouth over the hardened peak and starts sucking gently. Clarke squeezes her thighs together.

She’s been thinking about this all day, ever since the first time, and she knows her panties are soaked again. She doesn’t know if it’s just the sensation of his mouth on her nipples that she likes, or if it’s the actual physical act of him drinking from her breasts, all she knows is that she’s never been hornier than this.

His body lies flat against hers as he drinks, one hand on her waist, the other now moving to clasp her hand. He sucks harder, and Clarke brings her free hand to rest on his head, her fingers sinking into his curls.

She holds her body perfectly still, though it takes some effort. She doesn’t want to let him know what he does to her. Exactly how much she likes this. His fingers move against her stomach, stroking her skin, and goosebumps erupt all over her body. A whimper escapes her mouth as her nipple pops out of his mouth.

“Bell,” she whispers. “I changed my mind.”

“You want me to stop?” he asks, lifting his head to look at her.

Clarke shakes her head. “I—I want to taste it.”

He swallows. His fingers disentangle from hers, and he runs his thumb over her nipple. She shivers. He squeezes, letting her milk run onto his fingers. His eyes never leave hers as he brings his hand to her mouth, and Clarke sucks his dripping fingers into her mouth.

It’s not like they had milk on the ark, so Clarke doesn’t really have anything to compare it to. It’s not sweet, exactly, but it’s not horrible either.

“Good?” Bellamy asks her, his voice husky. Clarke nods shyly. Bellamy puts his mouth to her breast again, kissing the soft flesh around her nipple before sucking it into his mouth, and draining her of her milk again. 

When he’s done, Clarke is ready to dash back to her tent as quickly as possible, so she can ease the ache that seems to have migrated from her breasts to her cunt. Bellamy has other ideas.

“You should stay,” he whispers. “You’ll probably need me to do it again in the morning anyway.”

Clarke considers. She knows he’s probably right, but she also knows his bed is very small, and her cunt is throbbing, and she doesn’t know if she can survive a night in such close proximity to him. The intimacy of having him suck on her breasts is unbearable enough, let alone spending the night wrapped up in his body heat. Because the only way they both fit in this bed is if he cuddles her all night. She feels hot at the thought.

But she agrees anyway, because apparently her brain and her mouth are not actually connected. A pleased smile spreads across Bellamy’s face. He pulls off his shirt, and settles down beside her, his bare chest pressed against her bare back. He pulls the covers over him, and Clarke can’t help but think about how this feels ridiculously domestic.

She reaches for her own shirt, knowing she needs some kind of barrier between their bodies if she’s going to keep her sanity.

“Leave it off,” Bellamy whispers in her ear. His fingers rub her shoulder soothingly, then he drops his arm to capture her waist. “If your breasts start leaking in the night, you’ll get your top all wet.”

“I’ll get cold,” Clarke whispers.

“I’ll keep you warm.” He tightens his arm around her, somehow bringing her even closer to him. His crotch presses against her ass, and she can feel his hard cock jutting into her. Did she do that to him? Did he get hard from sucking on her tits? She squirms, the thudding between her legs almost too much to bear. She needs to be touched.

“Clarke, stop moving,” Bellamy groans.

“I’m sorry,” Clarke hisses. “It’s just—I can feel you,” she says, flushing.

“Feel me?”

“Your—erection.”

Bellamy is silent for a moment. “Can’t do anything about that,” he says. “It will go away eventually.”

“It’s not just that,” Clarke says. “You’re all—hot.”

“I’m hot?”

“Your temperature,” Clarke clarifies. “And I’m not used to being in bed with someone else. And we’re both half-naked, and you just sucked my nipples for twenty minutes, and it’s a lot, and I’m very—”

“Horny?”

Clarke blush deepens. “I was going to say flustered.”

“But you are horny.”

Clarke bites her lip. “Yes.”

“You need some other kind of relief,” Bellamy murmurs. “Me too.” His fingers trail down her bare stomach, and he toys with the waistband of her pants. “I haven’t stopped thinking about your tits all day,” he says. His lips are against her ear. Clarke’s heart beats rapidly, and her cunt throbs in anticipation. “Knowing you weren’t wearing a bra. Watching them bounce, all full of milk. Couldn’t stop thinking about drinking your milk.”

His hand slides into her pants, and Clarke whimpers at the first contact of his fingers on her pussy.

“God, you’re absolutely soaking,” Bellamy groans. “Is that what you were thinking about all day too? My mouth on your tits?”

“Yes,” Clarke whimpers. His fingers find her clit and he strokes her. Clarke can feel her orgasm building already.

“Bet everyone knows by now,” Bellamy tells her. “Finn probably told everybody. God, the look on his face. Priceless.”

“I thought he was going to hit you,” Clarke confesses.

“He wouldn’t dare,” Bellamy growls. “He knows you’re mine now.” 

Clarke moans as he claims her with both his words and his fingers sinking into her cunt.

“Oh my god,” she cries, as he curls his fingers inside her. “Fuck. Bellamy, please. Fuck me.”

“Thought you’d never ask,” Bellamy breathes. He pulls his hand from between her legs and shoves the covers away. Clarke tugs her pants down, while he works on his own, and it takes them less than a few seconds to shed their clothes completely.

His mouth is back on her breast again, like he just can’t get enough, and then his cock is sliding against her slit and she feels her core pulsing, desperate for him inside her. He kisses her messily, his mouth hot on hers. She cants her hips towards him, and he slides into her, and she no longer feels so empty.

It’s quick and inelegant, the way they devour each other, both too desperate to try to impress each other with technique or skill, but it’s enough to send Clarke over the edge, clutching at Bellamy as she comes, his name rolling off her lips, uncaring if the people in the surrounding tents can hear her.

Bellamy meets her there seconds later, filling her with his come. She wants to taste him the way he’s tasted her. Next time, maybe.

As they lie beside each other in the afterglow, doubt and anxiety starts to bubble in Clarke’s throat.

“Did we just make a huge mistake?” she asks.

“Nothing about that could have been a mistake,” Bellamy assures her.

“But we’re supposed to be in charge. We’re supposed to look after everyone. What if it makes it all weird and awkward and we can’t even talk to each other—”

“Clarke,” Bellamy says, so calm and sturdy. “No matter what happens, I’m with you. If this was a one time thing, fine. I can handle that. I’m not going to stop speaking to you just because we had sex.”

“You don’t want it to be a one time thing?” Clarke asks, astonished.

Bellamy shrugs. He props himself up on one elbow and looks down at her. “We make a pretty good team in all things. Including this. Seems a shame to waste it.”

“That’s it?”

Bellamy rolls his eyes. “Are you fishing for compliments?”

“No. Maybe.”

“Fine. I like you. You happy?”

Clarke can’t stop the idiotic grin that creeps across her face. “An hour ago I didn’t even know you wanted me.”

“Seriously, Clarke?” Bellamy says. “I would’ve thought it was pretty obvious when I offered to suck the milk from your tits.”

“I thought you were just being helpful.”

“Helpful? Does that sound like me?”

“Stop trying to act like you’re such a badass, Bellamy,” Clarke says. “I know you’re a big softie. I’ve got you all figured out by now.”

“Yeah, well, don’t go ruining my reputation,” Bellamy snorts, falling back down on the bed beside her, wrapping her up in his arms.

“Will you be disappointed if we figure out a way to stop me from lactating?”

“Maybe a little,” Bellamy admits.

“Maybe I don’t have to do it right away,” Clarke suggests. “If you can make sure I don’t start randomly leaking throughout the day.”

“I think I can handle that.”


End file.
